


Ghost of Him

by kuroosactualgf



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, good luck, i am sorry lolz, more mentioned MCD u dont actually see anyone die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:16:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28970448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuroosactualgf/pseuds/kuroosactualgf
Summary: All you could do was claw at the ghost of his memory, begging for him to come back, but he never did.Your Tetsurou was gone.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Kudos: 13





	Ghost of Him

There isn’t a single thing you don’t love about him. He’s your Tetsurou. He’s your Tetsurou and you’re hopelessly in love with him.

_No._

He _was_ your Tetsurou and you _were_ hopelessly in love with him. 

That familiar ache nagged in your chest as you were reminded of the harsh reality once again. You had lost track of how many times that had happened today. Everything was different now, and it hurt. It hurt; a lot more than you were willing to admit.

Your brain liked to trick yourself into pretending nothing had ever happened, that nothing had changed and he was still with you sometimes, but every time you were reminded of his absence, it only hurt more. 

It was the worst when you would wake up in the mornings, the soft yellow light from the sun creeping through your blinds and illuminating your room with a subtle glow. You would smile to yourself, so happy and so content, that feeling of peacefulness and warmth washing over you as you turned to greet him and see his still sleeping face, only to be greeted with nothing but an empty bed. 

Your heart would break all over again and you felt that familiar lump in your throat, tears stinging at the corner of your eyes. You would reach a hand out to touch his side of the bed, wanting so desperately for him to be there so you could hold him and kiss him and whisper sweet nothings to each other as you both woke up, but he was gone. 

He was gone and now all you were greeted with was an empty spot to your right, an unoccupied pillow, sheets pressed flat against the bed where he was supposed to be. You longed for at least a sign that he had been there. Ruffled sheets or his lingering smell that you loved so much. He was _supposed_ to be there. 

But there was nothing. No one. He was gone. 

You would take in a shaky breath as you slowly forced yourself out of bed, walking towards the bathroom to get ready for the day. You would grab your toothbrush, instinctually grabbing the one sitting next to yours, and lift it up to give to him, but nothing. No one. He was gone. 

Some days you would be fine and sigh defeatedly as you placed the toothbrush back in its place, but some days your grip on the toothbrush would loosen and it’d clatter to the ground, the sound echoing in your ears as memories of you two laughing in the mornings as you got ready played over and over again in your head. You’d feel your knees weaken and you’d slide down the wall and collapse onto the floor, shaking as you wrapped your arms tightly around your knees like that would do anything to help ease the pain plaguing your mind. 

When you would stand in the kitchen every morning to make breakfast and your morning coffee, you would get out two mugs. One for you, one for him. He wasn’t there but you did it anyways. The routine of it all was comforting. You were sure pretending he wasn’t gone and he would walk into the kitchen to greet you as he grabbed his coffee from the counter was doing more harm than good, but you couldn’t accept it. You didn’t want to. You couldn’t let him go. 

One morning you reached into the cupboard to grab a mug for the coffee, and without realizing, you had grabbed his favorite mug from the back of the shelf. You’d been meaning to do the dishes, but you couldn’t find the energy last night and so you had grabbed that cup in the back of the cupboard. When you finally _had_ looked at the mug, your hand reacted before your mind could catch up, and the mug shattered as it hit the kitchen floor. It shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces, breaking a piece of your memory of him along with it. 

_That was his favorite mug._

That was his favorite mug and now it was broken. So broken to the point where you knew there was no hope in fixing it. There was no fixing it and now you had one less thing you could hold onto. You had one less piece of him. You were losing him. 

Your knees hit the ground, too caught up in your sobs to notice the shards of porcelain digging into your skin. You didn’t care. You couldn’t find it in you to care. Why would you care? He was gone. 

Another day, you had gotten a call from your sister. She was expecting. You were overjoyed, so of course you ran into the living room to tell him the news.

But it was empty. All that greeted you was silence. He was gone. 

Memories flashed through your mind. Pillow fights in the middle of the night as the two of you, two grown adults, stood atop the couch. Memories of you curled up in his warmth, arms wrapped tightly around you as the soft glow of the TV illuminated your faces. 

You weren’t really watching the movie. He was, but you preferred to watch him. Not in a creepy way, you just loved to observe the subtle changes in his facial expression as you two laid together silently.

You watched the way the corner of his lip would lift into a small smirk when he was happy. The almost unnoticeable furrow of his eyebrows and the frown on his lips when he was upset. The way his lips would part _just_ a bit when he was confused. The way his eyes would sparkle in the light when he found something endearing. 

Sometimes you couldn’t help but reach up to touch his face, softly resting your palm against his cheek and stroking it gently. You didn’t have to say anything for him to know that was your way of saying “I love you.” He would just tilt his head down, a small smile gracing his face as his eyes met yours, his grip on you tightening just the slightest bit as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

_I love you too._

Sometimes you would wake up from an afternoon nap to hear him screaming at the TV, and you would trudge out of your bedroom to scold him and the look on his face would instantly soften as he muttered a soft apology. You always forgave him, of course. You would never tell him but you found those moments amusing and would giggle to yourself as he went back to his game. 

Now, there were no interruptions to your naps. He didn’t wake you up with his yells. In fact, you finally take a nap in peace. 

You hated it.

You don’t take naps anymore. 

Every now and then you would turn down the corner of the hall, half expecting to see him jump out at you in an attempt to scare you. He did manage to scare you when he first started doing it, but he started doing it so much you weren’t surprised anymore. He still tried to scare you anyways because he loved to see the smile light up your face as you laughed at his attempts. 

When you turned that corner now, when you expected him to be there, you were left painfully disappointed when no one was there to greet you. His silly grin that would sneak onto his face as he glanced at you mischievously was only a memory of the past now. You would never see that face again because he wasn’t there. He wasn’t coming back. He was gone.

You missed hearing him walk through the door after he came home from work, jumping up from wherever you were to run into his arms and greet him. He would wrap his arms around you and you would hold onto him tightly, but now you just stared at the door, waiting for it to open, waiting for him to walk through, waiting for him to come back. He never did. You never felt those arms wrap themselves around your body again. He wasn’t coming back. He was gone. 

You were so used to making dinner for the both of you too that you would be left with extra food because you had made it for two. Sometimes you would take out a plate for him out of habit, but the food would get cold in his absence and you would end up throwing it out. Sometimes you cried silently at the table as you stared at the empty seat in front of you. You would do anything to just see his smiling face across the table as the two of you talked about your day one more time. 

Now you ate in silence. The kind of silence that cancels out any other sound as it suffocates you until you can’t breathe. You would get panic attacks before, but they were never this bad and he was always there to help you. He always knew what to do to help you as his hand rubbed your back slowly and he whispered supportive words in your ear. 

When you had finally gotten over it, he would take you to the couch and put on your favorite movie, pulling you as close as he could to him, wrapping a blanket around the two of you as his thumb stroked your arm gently, the other hand combing through your hair as he felt you relax in your arms until you eventually fell asleep. 

He would listen to your soft snores and smile down at you, wishing you two could stay like that together. You wish you could’ve. You wanted it to be forever. You thought it would be forever. 

It wasn’t.

The hardest part of the day was when you finally climbed into bed to fall asleep. It was cold. So cold. No matter how high you turned the up heat, no matter how many blankets you wrapped around yourself, no matter how many layers of clothes you wore, it was so _painfully cold._

You were so used to having his grasp warm you up as you buried your head into his chest, wrapping your own arm around his torso. 

It was always so quiet too. You would try playing music, you tried leaving the TV on, you tried leaving the window open, but it was always so quiet. 

You would always fall asleep to the sound of his slowing heartbeat echoing in your ear every night, but he wasn’t here anymore and the empty spot to your right haunted you so deeply to the point where you would start shaking, grasping at his side of the bed to be met with nothing but the smooth fabric of the sheets against your hand as hot tears streamed down your face. 

You wanted to touch his skin. You wanted to feel his warmth. You wanted to hear his heartbeat. But he wasn’t there. He was gone. 

He was gone.

Your Tetsurou was gone.

Your Tetsurou was gone and in his departure he dragged away your happiness, your comfort, your warmth, your liveliness, your laughter, your smiles, your _love_ …

He took it all and there was no getting it back. 

Your Tetsurou was gone and all you were left with was the constant emptiness in the air, the constant ache in your chest, the constant suffocating silence, the constant unwavering cold, the constant burning and puffy eyes, the constant shaking in his absence, the constant reminder that he was gone.

Your Tetsurou was gone.

All you could do was claw at the ghost of his memory, begging for him to come back, but he never did. 

Your Tetsurou was _gone._

And he was not coming back.


End file.
